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“Hey,” I said, as I approached my own box, four boxes to the left of hers.
“Oh, hi,” she said. “I wish I could pretend mail wasn’t a thing. Then the bills would never find me.”
I smiled at her. “Wouldn’t that be nice.”
She leaned in closer to me and looked around conspiratorially. “Do you know what’s going on with Maxim?”
Whatever hackles were—mine rose. “Speaking the demon’s name gives him power.”
She laughed, loudly.
It startled me a bit. I opened my box and pulled the contents out.
“Speak of the devil and the devil appears?” She smacked her thigh and continued with her laughter. “You’re so funny, Layana. I swear, you?—”
The words died in her throat. Her face went white.
I turned slowly, following her gaze over my shoulder.
Maxim stomped into the lobby, with his furry arms bare, and his stupid bowl cut hair covering his eyes. Somehow he looked even more terrible than usual. Dare I say haunted, as if he hadn’t slept in a week.
I would have been pleased to see a little misfortune coming his way had the look in his eye not been so freaking predatory.
Wait…had he read my Tragic Tank Topper post?
He shoved out his sausage finger in our direction. “You two,” he snapped.
My shoulders went stiff. My butt clenched. I stuck my hand in my messenger bag and found the bear spray.
Something weird happened to Maxim’s face. His usual sneer morphed into…slobbering dog mouth? He shoved out his bottom lip.
It quivered.
He looked an entirely new kind of pathetic.
“Did you get a weird envelope in your box?” he asked. “With no markings? And full of white powder?”
“Someone sent you anthrax,” I said in a flat tone. Even though Maxim was terrible, I doubted anyone would actually try to kill him. Plus I was pretty sure the postal service had systems in place to check for that kind of thing.
“No.”Janet’s mouth dropped open. Quickly she shielded her face from Maxim with a fan of mail. She mouthed at meO-M-G.
“That’s bad, right?” Maxim asked. “You’re probably not supposed to taste anthrax.”
“Youtastedit?” Janet dropped the mail down.
He wasn’t stupid enough to lick the mystery white powder…was he?
“You’re not supposed to do anything with it,” I said. “Except turn it over to the police.”
Tears welled in his eyes. “I opened it up, thought it might be…a nice surprise and….” The tears fell. He choked up and snotted and rubbed his nose with his hairy wrist.
“I snorted some and it didn’t feel right so I licked it to see the taste and it was sweet. The good stuff isn’t supposed to be sweet.” His chest heaved. His eyes passed between us, wide with panic.“Is anthrax sweet?”
“How do you expect us to know?” Janet asked.
“Anthrax probably tastes like sugar cookies,” I told Maxim.
He twisted on his heel and hustled in the opposite direction while murmuring to himself. I caught words like “hospital” and “never trust free drugs.” Then the sound of a door slam echoed down the hall.
